


and how it sings, and how it sighs

by ennta



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is very good at domesticity, Carlos is very good at other things too, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Spoilers for Episode 35
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennta/pseuds/ennta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leann Hart plots, Cecil remains unfazed, and Carlos just wants to unwind after a long day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and how it sings, and how it sighs

**Author's Note:**

> I realize everyone and their nonexistent angel is writing a cuddling/fucking fic based on the events of the latest episode, but is that going to stop me from bestowing this upon the Internet? Hahaha no.

 

Cecil’s iPhone buzzed at him and he lazily spun it across the desk, hoping he was actually getting a text and the phone wasn’t just vibrating of its own accord. He appreciated iOS 7 as much as the next City Council-controlled Apple user, but the new semi-sentient features were a bit much.

To Cecil’s relief, he did indeed have a text, but it was from Leann Hart, who had been something of a nuisance lately, always trying to steal hot scoops from the radio station for her failing and, quite frankly, terrible newspaper.

 _Saw your boyfriend_ , her text read. _I am lying in the bushes watching him. This wave of apathy is not affecting him. He is vigorously and muscularly sweating his way across the lawn with a mower._

Cecil rolled his eyes. She was always doing this, trying to distract him while he was on air. But he was a professional, and Leann Hart had every right to ogle Carlos, as he was, in fact, a community treasure, much like the nude sculpture of Martin Luther in front of the Neo-Proto-Calvinist But-We-Don’t-Hate-Anyone Chapel.

 _How industrious of him_ , Cecil managed to type back, though really his fingers just wanted to rest on the desk and never move again.

 _Now he is wiping the gleaming sweat from his deep brown skin, and he is glistening in the hot afternoon sunlight_ , Leann texted back. _It’s too bad he doesn’t have anyone to bring him a glass of water or a fresh fluffy towel._

Cecil pushed his phone away as the prerecorded segment he had been playing ended. Leann had painted a lovely picture, of course, but Cecil would not leave his show simply because an evil newspaper mastermind had found a weakness to exploit.

During the next prerecorded segment, he received another text.

 _I’m watching him through his window. He’s rearranging his lab coats_ , Leann informed Cecil. _He’s still shirtless, by the way. Magnificent shoulderblades._

Cecil chuckled lowly, wondering if Leann’s binoculars were sharp enough to show her the lines Cecil’s sharp fingernails had scratched into those magnificent shoulderblades two nights ago. He hoped they were, just in case Leann was actually sizing Carlos up for some sort of significant other takeover.

When the gravity went off, Cecil relaxed into the air and pulled his phone up with him to read Leann’s latest inconsequential--and completely not distracting at all--missive.

This time there was a blurry picture of Carlos floating around the roof of the house with the caption _He’s cleaning the gutters. I think he found a used condom and I don’t think I want to know about it. But you should probably come home now._

Cecil kicked off from one wall and pinwheeled over to hover above his chair. _Really don’t have time for this, Leann_ , he texted her. _Some of us have jobs. Important jobs._

Leann was quiet for the rest of the broadcast, and when the phone buzzed again, it was as Cecil was placing his iPad and sheafs of notes into his brightly-patterned satchel and gulping down the last of his invigorating coffee.

 _He’s lying on the couch now_ , Leann texted. _All sprawled out and sweaty, a glass of lemonade in one hand, his other hand brushing tangles of hair out of his face._

Cecil sighed and resolutely ignored his phone as it vibrated throughout the drive home. He found Leann crouched in the flowerbed by the doorway of the house, binoculars and iPhone in hand, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Trying to get me out of the station early?” Cecil asked. “What nefarious purpose could you have for that, I wonder."

Leann stood and swept the wrinkles from her pencil skirt, trying and failing to look dignified. “I simply thought a vacation would do you well. You sounded tired.” She smiled a shark’s smile and leaned close enough that she and Cecil were pressed side-by-side and he could smell her perfume. Fittingly, it smelled like blood and failure. With maybe an afternote of desperation. Cecil wondered what it was called.

“Well,” Leann whispered into his ear, “enjoy your boyfriend.”

Cecil watched her saunter down the walk, decided he had had enough of her stalking and vague threats for the day, and let himself in.

“Hey, babe!” Carlos called, waving when Cecil came into view. Cecil grinned, because Carlos was even more beautiful than Leann had described him, all long curly hair and sleek brown skin stretched over musculature that had once been illegal to possess in Night Vale for anyone without a male model certification.

“I heard you got a lot of housework done today,” Cecil purred, crossing the room and straddling Carlos’s prone form. The pressure sank them deeper into the plush couch and Carlos’s eyes crinkled in a smile.

“Mmm, yeah, it was nice,” Carlos confirmed, reaching up to pull Cecil’s long black braid over his shoulder and twine it around his fist. He gently tugged Cecil in for a kiss, a slow, sleepy kiss that nonetheless melted Cecil down to nothing.

“No crises to avert,” Carlos continued, beginning to work at the buttons on Cecil’s shirt with his sure, swift fingers. “Nothing to study, nothing trying to kill me.”

“Well,” Cecil felt obligated to inform him, though his voice had jumped several octaves, “Leann Hart has been stalking you all day, so I wouldn’t say there was _no_ threat to your wellbeing.”

Carlos just laughed at that. “I just thought she was a Sheriff’s Secret Policewoman.” He pressed his fingers gently to a bruise he had left by sucking just a bit too hard on the skin over Cecil’s heart. “She didn’t bother me.”

“She bothered me,” Cecil pouted, and he rocked against Carlos just enough to send a spark of static and lust through them. “She kept texting me and telling me how beautiful you were--like I don’t already know--and how I needed to leave the station early and see you.”

At that, Carlos laughed even harder, his head thrown back against the cushions. It was a deep, husky laugh, and Carlos’s eyes gleamed. “Now why would she do that?” he asked playfully, still working on slowly undressing Cecil. His hands unfastened Cecil’s belt and tugged at the zipper of his dress pants.

“Oh, she probably just wants the access codes for the nuclear warheads hidden in Radon Canyon,” Cecil said, breathless and dismissive. “They’re locked in my desk and she’s always bribing interns or creating emergencies to get me out of the soundbooth.”

Carlos sat up and pushed Cecil, still in his lap, to his back on the other end of the couch.

“Well,” Carlos whispered against Cecil’s ear, “thank you for averting a nuclear crisis, then.” He worried Cecil’s earlobe between his lips, his breath hot against the side of Cecil’s face. “But I’ve got one more thing I need to get done around here before I can call it a day.”

Cecil felt Carlos’s grin turn wicked against his neck before he pursed his lips to kiss the freckles along Cecil’s collarbones. Cecil stopped thinking, because thinking had always caused more problems for him than not, and let Carlos explore him with big warm hands and that sweet wet mouth.

It turned out to be the best decision Cecil had made all day. He moaned happily and arched his hips up against Carlos, needing the friction of his erection against Carlos's through the fabric of his boxers. Carlos chuckled again at that, licking around one of Cecil’s nipples and pressing the palm of one hand to Cecil’s hipbone to keep him still.

“No, you’ve been so lazy today,” Carlos teased. “Just keep relaxing, baby, I’ve got you.” He kissed down Cecil’s torso, lathing a swath of fire across Cecil’s dark skin. Cecil whimpered--rather pitifully, his subconscious informed him, but he informed his subconscious to _kindly just fuck off_ , and that was the end of that.

Carlos eased Cecil’s pants and underwear down just far enough that he could slide his hands along Cecil’s erection, rub it gently before sinking down to take Cecil in his mouth. Cecil shuddered at the slow, wide brush of Carlos’s tongue, at the heady rush of orgasm pooling hot and sweet, low in Cecil’s belly. Carlos pulled back so that his lips were pursed around the head, his tongue trailing along the underside, then curling back up onto the top, into the slit, and Cecil’s brain shorted out the way it always did when Carlos pleasured him like this.

Carlos took Cecil deeper, until Cecil could feel himself pressed along the soft roof of Carlos’s mouth from the curl of his lips to the entrance of his throat, and Carlos sucked with just the right amount of pressure, one hand still on Cecil’s hip, the other reaching down to massage Cecil’s balls in time with the sweep of Carlos’s tongue along the underside of Cecil’s cock. It was wet now, slick with spit and precome, and _fuck where had Carlos learned to do this_ , and was ‘ _fucking amazing at giving head_ ’ the fourth or fifth thing a scientist was required to be?

Cecil tangled his fingers in Carlos’s still-sweaty hair, stroking it out of his boyfriend’s eyes, and Carlos looked up at that, a smile in brown eyes that looked black in the dim living room light. He turned back to Cecil with a new fervor, head bobbing, hands exploring the humid, sensitive areas his mouth couldn’t quite reach, and nothing in Cecil’s life had prepared him for feeling this--

_wanted._

“I love you,” Cecil gasped, and it seemed that there was electricity in his limbs, lighting him up all over, and he very nearly bucked up into Carlos’s mouth before he could stop himself. Carlos took the hint and focused one last round of attention on Cecil’s dick, the hand that had been exploring Cecil’s thigh coming up to join Carlos’s lips around Cecil’s cock so that his fingers could twist and stroke in time with his tongue.

Cecil’s nervous system was nothing but a quivering network of sensations, and another flash of what felt for all the world like lightning seared through him, burning him out like a fuse, and he came, pulsing and shuddering as Carlos sucked and rubbed and swallowed.

When Carlos pulled back, he had a little smirk on his face and his eyes were hooded with desire. “Was that okay, baby?”

Cecil nodded, trying to find his voice. He only ever lost it in the aftermath of sexual encounters with his perfect Carlos, but he found he never missed it in those messy, quiet moments.

Carlos’s eyes softened. “We should shower, get some sleep.”

Cecil nodded at the suggestion and watched Carlos saunter off toward the bathroom, his jeans slung low on his hips. Cecil followed, removing the remnants of his outfit as he did, and then he and Carlos were naked under a stream of running water and Cecil was reaching for Carlos’s erection, delighting in the hiss of appreciation his touch drew from his boyfriend.

Cecil slid closer until they were chest to chest (well, face to chest; Carlos was taller) and there was nothing between them but steam and humidity. The whole world seemed reduced to the sound of water hitting and sluicing down skin and the wet length of Carlos’s warm, thick cock sliding through Cecil’s tight fist.

“Oh God,” Carlos murmured, leaning his head down and nipping at Cecil’s shoulder. “God that’s good, keep going baby, please--”

Cecil did, stroking harder and drifting even closer to plant a gentle kiss against Carlos’s chest, and it was that little motion that sent Carlos reeling, sent him coming in hot, slick spurts against the both of their torsos.

They stood for a moment, pressed together, before Cecil reached for a loofah and his lilac-scented body wash and began to caress the sweat and sex from Carlos’s body. Carlos sighed and relaxed into Cecil’s touch.

“Mmmm, now it’s been a productive day.” Carlos’s voice was a deep rumble against Cecil’s temple, and as they washed one another, dried one another, and fell into bed, Cecil found that he couldn’t disagree.

__

Meanwhile, Leann Hart, who had stolen the keys to the station when she brushed up against Cecil before abandoning her Carlos-watching vigil, drove home happily, whistling to herself as she thought of the nuclear launch codes safely stored in her phone and the damage she and Tamika Flynn could do to StrexCorp with such weaponry.

  
A lazy day, indeed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Enya's "Lazy Days" because I'm clever like that.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr, where I go by [in-static-pallor](http://in-static-pallor.tumblr.com/) and post more clever, though not Enya-related, things.


End file.
